Imagine being almost 46 years old and cringy gloat dancing because you schooled your 12yo on one shot playing basketball in your driveway.
I was proud of you mom until you did that ridiculous little dance.
-by Chase
Imagine being almost 46 years old and cringy gloat dancing because you schooled your 12yo on one shot playing basketball in your driveway.
I was proud of you mom until you did that ridiculous little dance.
-by Chase
And so it begins. Again.
Sending them off to preschool was hard. The first day of kindergarten – that was tough.
I used to think it would get easier … the first day of school.
It doesn’t.
I truly have a love-hate relationship with the beginning of the school year.
Because I work from home, I am pretty darn excited to kick the kiddos out the door and soak up the deliciousness of my peace and quiet.
But I also feel the enormity of the milestone. One more step on their journey – their own path – and away from the one that we share now.
The ticking of the life clock getting louder and louder with each passing “first day” of school.
And it makes me proud. And sad. So very sad.
Fortunately, I know that this day will pass, my tears will stop and we’ll move on in quiet obliviousness to the background ticking of that clock.
And suddenly, I’ll blink and the year will be over.
I’ll be once more reminded that the clock continues to tick, ever closer to our very last “first day of school.”